


Pick a God and Pray

by Kestrealbird



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: "this is what kills the man"-my friend 2K18, Cuddling, Fluff, Ignis is a Disaster Gay, Ignis is a mess, Other, Pre-Relationship, Prompto in glasses, Sharing a Bed, ignis pining, wearing Iggy's clothes is a power move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: There’s only one bed.That was fine, he assured himself, he could do this.“Hey Iggy you doing ok?”Fuck he was so screwed.





	Pick a God and Pray

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that I have never written the Sharing a Bed trope before and honestly that was a great injustice to me, as a writer, so I fixed it. Do I love to make Ignis suffer? The answer is yes. Always.

There’s only one bed.

That was  _ fine _ , he assured himself, he could  _ do this _ .

“Hey Iggy you doing ok?”

Fuck he was so screwed.

When Noctis had asked him if he could give Prompto a place to stay for the night while his new apartment was littered with boxes, Ignis hadn’t thought twice about agreeing. Noctis would’ve let Prompto stay at his place but, well, duty called and all that, so Ignis was the only other option unless they wanted to let Prompto stay in a  _ hotel _ , which he steadfastly refused because apparently they didn’t have any self-restraint with those expenses.

The  _ problem _ was that Ignis’ quick agreement to this arrangement was 30% him being a good friend and 70% his own mind gleefully telling him he’d be  _ sharing a living space with his crush _ . Gladio had given him a sympathetic look before they’d left, and Ignis hadn’t really understood why until they’d gotten to his place and been starkly reminded that he only had  _ one bed _ .

Prompto had insisted that he could “take the sofa, really, or maybe the floor if it’s easier?”, but Ignis would sooner damn his own soul then let one of his friends sleep in such an uncomfortable way. So, after a five minute argument over who would sleep where, Prompto had declared that they would either share the bed or share the floor and Ignis knew that he had long since lost this argument, so he backed down and chose the bed for comfort.

The next problem came about when Prompto realized he didn’t have any spre clothes with him. Naturally Ignis offered his own as a replacement, and it wasn’t until Prompto stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and hair looking even fluffier, that he realized why this was a  _ terrible fucking idea _ .

Prompto was shorter than Ignis by quite a bit, and his frame was definitely smaller. Ignis’ clothes were far too large for him, yet he still looked....

The pants he was wearing were a simple black, and they pooled at his feet, almost slipping down his waist completely if not for the drawstrings being pulled and tied as tightly as they could go. Anything it might have shown was covered by the lilac shirt that hung off his frame with a teasing slip of skin, and Ignis knew that if Prompto stretched at all the shirt would only ride up to his hips. It was a tantalizing thought nonetheless. 

The clothes were a stark contrast against Prompto’s fairer skin, his freckles almost acting as a map for Ignis to follow and the shirt suited his eyes in such a way that they were like the physical embodiment of the Siren songs Ignis had heard about as a child in books and legends.

“I’m fine,” he croaked, clearing his throat and swiftly shuffling under the covers to try and calm his own heartbeat. Prompto was wearing glasses on top of it all and even though he would soon take them off soon it was just  _ unfair  _ and  _ cruel _ . Maybe if Ignis asked them very nicely, the Astrals would take pity on him and end his suffering. 

Prompto turned off the lights, put on a long CD of some soft music, then slipped into bed behind Ignis, placing his glasses on the dresser and -  _ oh god he was so warm and soft what the fuck _ .

“If you say so,” he murmured back.

Ignis coughed. “I do. Say so. That I’m - that I’m fine I’m just. Just tired, probably.” Amazing. He couldn’t have botched that up any further if he damn well tried.

Prompto laughed softly from behind him, shuffling closer so they were pressed against each other and Ignis willed himself to calm down because his heart was beating against his ribs like a drum and blood was rushing to an area he would  _ rather not deal with right now thanks _ . Prompto’s breath against his neck sent pleasant goosebumps down his body and he almost didn’t hear the quiet, “night, Ignis.”

An hour passed after that. Prompto was sleeping as easily as ever, but Ignis felt like crying. He knew that if he just turned around and cuddled he’d be able to sleep easier, but that meant dealing with the risk of a boner in the morning and he didn’t really fancy explaining that to Prompto.

He didn’t need to do anything, apparently, because Prompto reached out in his sleep with a muffled noise and wrapped his arms around Ignis, hands fisted in his shirt, and he curled up even further, nuzzling his head between Ignis’ shoulder blades. 

Ignis looked down, chuckling when he noticed that his sleeves practically covered Prompto’s hands completely. 

Yes, this was a terrible idea, but he’d be damned if he let his own disastrous crush ruin the first good sleep that Prompto had had in the past few weeks. With a sigh he resigned himself to a restless night of sleep and pretended that his dreams were some semblance of innocent. He would just focus on the fact that they were holding hands and not on...the other stuff they were doing.

A chime from his phone made him squint in the darkness as he reached out to read whatever text he’d gotten, and he almost threw it against the wall, cheeks burning as a whine escaped his throat.

_ Noctis (1:45 am): just wait till you see his mussed up bed head _


End file.
